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The pain that coursed through her body caused Hermione to freeze. She took a deep breath through her nose and counted down from twenty as she waited for the muscle spasm to stop. It tore through her so suddenly that it took all she had not to collapse on the floor. Her hands trembled as her cane shook from the force of the spasm. When the spasm finally stopped, Hermione let out a ragged breath as she made her way to one of the winged back chairs in the library, collapsing into it. Her muscles had tensed so hard trying to keep herself upright that Hermione felt sore as if she had just done hours in combat. A tear leaked from her eye before she hastily wiped it away.
This was how Barty found her when he entered the library some fifteen minutes later. Instantly, he was by her side, kneeling in front of her and gently rubbing the tops of her legs.
“That’s it, love. Breath for me darling.” He continued to massage her legs as she took slow, measured breaths. “That’s it. In. One. Two. Three. Out. One. Two. Three. You’re doing amazing, love.” Barty’s tone was soothing as he gave her a soft smile. It was a kind thing, something he reserved only for her, usually within the privacy of their home.
Hermione forced a smile onto her face, even as Barty sighed at the sight of it. Resting his head on her leg, he interlaced their fingers before he spoke.
“I wish you knew you didn’t have to fake it with me.” His tone was gentle, it always was with her, but Hermione heard the reprimand for what it was. “I know you like to keep up a strong front, but you don’t have to do that here. I hope you know that.” Barty spoke so sincerely that Hermione felt her heart swell at his words, even as a lump lodged within her throat.
She didn’t deserve this man after what she’d had to do during the war. The fact he accepted her for all she was, and all she had been, spoke more than those three words ever would. Hermione threaded her fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp as the pain began to lessen.
“I know, love. It’s just hard to turn off sometimes.” She kept up such a strong facade in public, never wanting Wizarding Britain to see one of their heroions falling apart at the seams that she forgot to take it down within the sanctuary of their own home. “Forgive me?” Barty smiled softly at her words, pressing a kiss into her leg as he sighed.
“There’s nothing to forgive, darling.” He reached for her hand before pressing his lips to it. “Never doubt that.” His unspoken I love you was threaded through his entire being. In the way he held her hand. In the way he nuzzled into her leg and practically purred as she scratched his scalp. So content to allow her to touch him.
To form that bond that seemed to thread them together every time their skin touched. He was her salvation wrapped into one neat little package. Her salvation and damnation, content to set her aflame for the rest of her life. Barty stood, holding his hand out to her, that gentle smile that pulled her in on full display. “Come on, love.” Hermione took his hand, steadying her shaky legs before she allowed him to pull her up. When he swept her up into his arms, Hermione gasped in surprise. Gently, he carried her to their bedroom, carefully laying her down on their bed before disappearing into the bathroom.
When he returned with several hot water bottles, he gently placed them around her injured leg before helping her drink several of her potions. He crawled in beside her and wrapped an arm around her, smiling when Hermione sighed as she relaxed into his hold.
Something about him holding her turned her back into that young schoolgirl with a crush.
“Rest, darling.” His words were soft and soothing as he pressed a kiss into her hair. Slowly, he began to massage her damaged leg, giving her an apologetic smile when she winced as he worked out the knot in her muscle. But as the potions took hold and the pain slowly subsided, Hermione found herself at his mercy as his hands slowly continued to work at her leg.
The smirk that crossed Barty’s face told her his effect on her wasn’t lost on him.
“Later, love.” Hermione rolled her eyes gently but knew that Barty was right. It wouldn’t do to set her leg off again so soon after the last attack. Moving to her side and effectively stopping Barty’s massage, she turned to face him. Reaching up, she ran a finger from his hairline down his jaw as his smirk softened into one of pure adoration.
“Thank you.” Barty knew she was thanking him for more than just what he had done this afternoon. Her words encompassed so much that Barty could only give her a reassuring smile. She knew.
Hermione knew exactly what she meant to him. Barty’d made sure of that, in everything he did for her. In how he took care of her when she couldn’t take care of herself. In the way he made love to her when she had the strength for it. The revenant way in which he held her when she didn’t.
In this daring life they’d carved for themselves, far from the Wizarding World, they were the only thing that mattered. This house they’d built, the love they shared. All-encompassing and all-consuming.
He’d die for her. She’d kill for him.
Barty sighed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. A kiss that said volumes without ever saying a word. When he pulled back, Hermione could see his love for her shining bright in his eyes. When she reached down to draw his arm across her body, Barty went willingly. Pulling her in.
He never intended to let go.